Blood Lust Read online

  When she’d crawled into bed with Molly last night she hadn’t considered the fact that Bas would actually stroll into the room before she had a chance to get dressed.

  “I should—”

  “No more running, Myst,” he interrupted, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  She pursed her lips. “I wasn’t running. I need a shower and change of clothes.”

  He shrugged, turning on the mattress so he could stretch out beside her, one arm cocked beneath his head.

  “You can have both after we talk,” he assured her.

  Myst sucked in a shocked breath. Even with the thick comforter between them she could feel the heat of his body searing against her bare skin.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making myself comfortable,” he said. “It’s been a long night.”

  She studied his pale face, belatedly noticing the shadows beneath his eyes. Despite his restless power that pulsed through the room it was obvious he was exhausted.

  “You haven’t slept?” she asked, annoyed to realize she was actually concerned about the aggravating male.

  “Not yet.”

  “Why don’t you rest?” She tried to scoot toward the edge of the mattress. “We can talk later.”

  He rolled to the side, throwing his arm over her waist to keep her pinned in place.

  “No.”

  She stiffened, telling herself it was outrage that was making her heart race.

  “Bas.”

  “I didn’t return alone.”

  “What?” Myst closed her eyes, struggling to sense who was in the outer room with her daughter. At last she opened them with a stab of surprise. “A witch?”

  “The Mave,” he corrected in soft tones.

  “You bastard,” she breathed in shock, shoving at his arm as she struggled to escape. Dammit, why hadn’t she asked more questions last night? She’d suspected he was plotting something devious, but she’d allowed her desperate desire to spend time with Molly to overcome her common sense. “I knew I couldn’t trust you.”

  “Easy, cara,” he murmured, grunting when she managed to knee him in the upper thigh. Growling out a low curse, he moved with the speed and strength that marked him as a Sentinel. Yanking her flat against the mattress, he rolled his large body on top of her and glared down with smoldering frustration. “Dammit, listen to me,” he commanded.

  She went rigid. Why waste her energy on a battle she couldn’t win?

  Instead she gazed into his beautiful face with a pleading expression.

  “Let me go. . . .” She grimaced, forcing the words past her stiff lips. “Please, Bas.”

  His hand moved to cup her cheek, his touch gentle although his heavy body remained lodged on top of her.

  “She’s not here for you, Myst,” he said, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. “She’s here to take Molly to Valhalla.”

  She made a sound of distress. Did the bastard think she would be any happier seeing Molly being handed over to the Mave?

  “You’re giving her our daughter?” she breathed.

  His brows snapped together, his head lowering until they were nose to nose.

  “Don’t be a fool,” he growled. “She’s going to protect her.”

  Myst forced herself to think through the panic that was clouding her mind.

  Of course Bas would never hand over Molly. Not to anyone. She might not trust Bas with her own welfare, but she never doubted that he loved Molly with all his heart.

  “Protect her from what?” she demanded.

  “From the Brotherhood.” His lips twisted. “The bastards wouldn’t hesitate to hurt a little girl, no matter how innocent she might be.”

  She winced, feeling as if he’d just slapped her. Did he think she didn’t realize her presence was a threat to Molly? Why else would she have walked away from her?

  “I told you I would only stay a few days,” she said in husky tones. “I would never put Molly in danger.”

  He continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

  “I also need her to protect Molly against my own enemies.” His lips twisted into a humorless smile. “Shockingly I’ve managed to acquire quite a few over the years.”

  “Yeah, big shocker,” she muttered.

  “Careful.”

  Without warning he closed the small distance to crush his lips against hers.

  It was short, and intense, and so unbearably sweet she felt her entire body melt beneath him.

  “Bas,” she rasped, not sure if she was chiding him to stop or pleading for him to rip off her clothes and ease the brutal need that refused to leave her in peace.

  “You shouldn’t provoke me,” he whispered against her lips, the hard length of his body pressing her deeper into the mattress.

  For a crazed minute Myst became lost in the molten bronze of his eyes, her hands lifting to grip his shoulders.

  She hadn’t been with a man since Bas. She told herself it was because she didn’t have the time or the interest. It was enough to concentrate on saving the world.

  Now she realized it was because she didn’t want another male to touch her.

  Only Bas could make her shiver with anticipation by just being near. Or send jolts of electric excitement through her body with a brush of his lips.

  Or make her wish she could wrap her legs around his waist while he surged deep inside her.

  She shivered, her hands sliding so she could tangle her fingers in the satin softness of his hair. Then the moment was shattered as the sound of Molly’s laughter floated through the closed door.

  Myst turned her head to the side, drawing in a deep breath.

  “All I’m asking for is the opportunity to spend time with my daughter,” she said, her voice strained as she tried to battle back the urgent need that thundered through her body. “Why are you determined to take her away from me?”

  His lips brushed her cheek, the faint tang of male cologne teasing at her senses.

  “I told you to trust me.”

  She swallowed a moan, tiny sparks of pleasure exploding through her.

  Dammit. How was she supposed to think when he was sending her up in flames?

  He nuzzled the corner of her mouth, his thickening erection pressed against her inner thigh.

  She desperately wanted to spread her legs. To let the madness consume her.

  Instead, she forced herself to turn her head back to meet his smoldering gaze.

  “Don’t send her away,” she implored.

  “Listen to me, cara,” he murmured softly. “I’m trying to give you a future with her.”

  She frowned in confusion. “Future?”

  “We’re going to find the answers you’ve been looking for,” he promised.

  It wasn’t what she was expecting.

  Bas wanted to help her?

  That seemed . . . unlikely.

  “In Russia?” she demanded, wondering if he intended to take her halfway around the world while he hid Molly someplace she would never be able to find her.

  “No.” He shook his head. “We’re going to speak with the Keeper of Tales.”

  Her eyes widened. She’d tried for the past twelve years to locate the mysterious Boggs.

  The elusive high-blood had a rare talent. He was capable of touching objects to see the future, as well as catching glimpses of the past. It was also said that he could decipher some of the most obscure prophecies.

  “You know how to contact him?” she asked in disbelief.

  He grimaced. “Not me, but the Mave has promised to set up a meeting.”

  A dangerous hope began to bloom in her heart.

  If Boggs could actually reveal the weapon she was supposed to give to their enemies, she could avoid her fate.

  And be a real mother to Molly.

  Of course, she’d prefer to accomplish this goal without becoming indebted to the male who was watching her with unnerving intensity.

  “There’s no need for you—”

  “We’re doing this to
gether, cara,” he interrupted, his tone warning his decision wasn’t up for debate.

  She blew out an exasperated sigh. “Why?”

  His bronze gaze lowered to her lips, his expression impossible to read.

  “When I figure that out I’ll let you know.”

  Chapter Six

  It took four hours for Bas to finally convince Myst that he wasn’t leading her into some devious trap, and to pack Molly a suitcase.

  The little girl was at first reluctant to leave, terrified she wouldn’t get to see her mother again. But once they’d promised that it was only for a short time and they would be reunited after Myst returned to Kansas City, she was eager to see Valhalla.

  Plus, it didn’t hurt that Lana had tumbled instantly in love with the little girl, and even the cold-eyed Wolfe had melted at Molly’s first dimpled grin.

  Bas was resigned to the knowledge that Molly would be utterly spoiled before he could return her home.

  Then he’d had to wait for the Mave to spread the word that he wasn’t on the top of the most-wanted list before he and Myst were headed toward the nearest monastery.

  Now they were standing in the small antechamber built of gray stone with narrow windows that allowed a glimpse of the early afternoon sunlight.

  Like most of the public areas of the abbey, it was a stark room with nothing beyond a few wooden benches and a woven rug on the stone floor. The monks didn’t provide comfort because they didn’t want visitors to linger.

  And even the sections used by the acolytes tended to be barren. Sentinels-in-training were fortunate if they were given a cot and a blanket to sleep with at night.

  But deeper in the abbey were beautiful libraries, exquisite woodwork and stained glass windows, as well as galleries filled with artwork created by the Sentinels. Each warrior was trained in some craft to teach him that he had more than mere violence to offer the world.

  All except assassins like Bas.

  They’d been the baddest of the baddest.

  The secret weapon of the monks who’d been disbanded years ago.

  He was honed for death.

  And the only thing of beauty he’d ever created was Molly. Of course, he hadn’t created her alone. No. He had to thank Myst for her very vital role in Molly’s birth.

  Bas glanced toward the woman who was standing at his side, ensuring she was fully covered by the heavy robe he’d demanded one of the monks provide for her.

  When she’d emerged from the bedroom of his hotel wearing nothing more than a floaty white sundress, he’d wanted to protest. The dress revealed far too much skin for his peace of mind. Her beauty was startling enough to cause talk without adding in a sneak peek of her perfect body. The fewer people who knew where she was, the better.

  Or at least that was the reason he’d given Myst when he’d wrapped her in the heavy material.

  Ignoring her puzzled gaze, he turned to watch a bald man in a robe similar to Myst’s poke his head out of a narrow opening at the back of the room.

  “The guardian is prepared to travel.”

  The monk disappeared and Bas reached to capture Myst’s fingers in a tight grip.

  “Wait here. I want to have a last word with Kaede,” he told her softly.

  He sensed her surprise.

  “He’s not coming with us?”

  “No, I need him to take care of another project,” he said. “He’ll be travelling with a different guardian.”

  She tilted back her head, her expression troubled. “Does it have anything to do with me?”

  Bas hesitated. His instinct was to lie. The last thing he wanted was for Myst to be distracted when they were about to meet with the Keeper of Tales.

  But logically he knew it was unfair to try and keep her out of the loop. Besides, they would need her help.

  “Wolfe mentioned that they’ve been trying to keep a close eye on the Brotherhood,” he admitted, his tone pitched to make sure it wouldn’t carry.

  “They have a spy in the Brotherhood?” she demanded.

  “He wasn’t willing to share any specifics,” he admitted, his expression wry. “You would think he didn’t trust me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Imagine that.”

  He shrugged, not particularly concerned with the Tagos’s opinion. He was, however, extremely concerned with the intel Wolfe had grudgingly passed along.

  “According to their . . . informant, there’s been an increase in chatter over the past twenty-four hours.”

  Myst frowned. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “From what Wolfe could figure out, it seems as if the Brotherhood is buzzing with word that some long-awaited prophecy is about to be fulfilled.”

  She stiffened, the color draining from her face. “It doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with me.”

  “I would usually agree.” He grimaced. Shit, he hated having to add to her fear. “The Brotherhood is full of crazy-ass prophecies and predictions. But Wolfe specifically mentioned that the center of the talk was coming out of Wyoming.”

  “Crap,” she breathed, her eyes suddenly haunted with memories she’d never fully escaped.

  Bas’s jaw tightened. Someday soon he was going to take pleasure in introducing himself to the people who’d traumatized this female.

  Starting with the Brotherhood and working his way back to her family.

  “Kaede will find out either way,” he smoothly assured her.

  She gave a startled blink. “Kaede?”

  “He’s headed to Wyoming.” Bas’s lips twisted. His enforcer had been the one to volunteer to travel to the Brotherhood compound to discover what the chatter was about. “He intends to infiltrate the Brotherhood and discover what prophecy they think is going to be fulfilled. It would help if you have the exact location of the compound,” he said, an abrupt edge to his voice. “Do you remember?”

  “You can’t let him.” Her gaze briefly flickered toward the younger man before returning to Bas. “The Brotherhood can sense a high-blood. He’ll be caught the minute he gets close enough to set off their mutant-sensors.”

  He studied her with an unexpected surge of amusement. “Mutant-sensors?”

  She shrugged. “Do you have a better name?”

  His lips twitched as he considered the strange ability of the Brotherhood to tell a high-blood from a normal human. They’d go to their graves denying that it was magic, preferring to claim it was some mystical gift from their God.

  “No,” he murmured, his lips twitching.

  “Please, Bas.” She reached out to lay her fingers on his arm. “I don’t want him to be hurt.”

  He studied her in surprise. “Are you worried about Kaede?”

  “Of course I am,” she said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  Despite his tension, Bas couldn’t help a sudden laugh.

  Kaede was a trained Sentinel who’d willingly sold his skills to become Bas’s enforcer. He was calculating, wickedly skilled, and willing to kill when necessary.

  Not the sort of male whom most women fussed over.

  He gave a wry shake of his head. “I doubt Kaede has ever had anyone worry about his safety.”

  Her expression unconsciously softened. “Everyone should have someone who worries about them.”

  Bas grimaced, his heart twisting as he studied her delicate face and the velvet-brown eyes that had never appeared more vulnerable.

  “How the hell have you survived with that soft heart?” he murmured.

  She leaned forward, almost as if she was about to sway into his arms, which were ready to catch her. Instead, she took a step back, her expression smoothing to an unreadable mask.

  “I can be ruthless when I have to be.” She shivered, her eyes dark with all she’d had to sacrifice.

  He resisted the urge to reach out and halt her retreat. This wasn’t the time. Or place.

  “It’s okay,” he reassured her. “He’s trained as an assassin. Like me.”

  “What does
that mean?”

  “Assassins are capable of casting illusions.” He held her gaze as he called on his inner magic, subtly weaving an image of an elderly man with a bald head and deeply lined face. “See?”

  “Oh,” she breathed in disbelief as he became a different man right before her eyes. Her hand lifted to touch his face, as if assuring herself he was real. “That’s amazing.”

  He turned his head, pressing his lips to the center of her palm.

  “I can be whatever you want, cara.”

  There was a breathless second as they both froze, the air vibrating with a white-hot awareness. Bas could taste the warm silk of her skin lingering on his lips, the sweet scent of honeysuckle filling the air.

  Then, with a tiny gasp, she was tugging her hand free and wrapping her arms around her waist.

  “Fascinating, but I don’t think it will fool the Brotherhood,” she muttered. “They use some weird instinct to detect if someone is a high-blood.”

  Bas abruptly released the illusion, studying her with a brooding expression.

  “Kaede’s specialty is masking his presence,” he explained, trying to concentrate on anything other than his hunger for this female. “Not even another high-blood would know what he is.”

  She looked confused. “He’s invisible?”

  “Nothing quite so dramatic. He passes as human,” he explained. It was a talent the enforcer had used on countless occasions to infiltrate the human world, not to mention to enter Valhalla without alerting the Mave that he was anything more than a common petitioner there to seek the services of the healers. “To everyone,” he emphasized. “The Brotherhood won’t suspect a thing.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely.” He held her gaze. “Okay?”

  “Okay.” She gave a slow nod. “But he still needs to be careful. That group is isolated,” she said, her concern for Kaede completely sincere. “They’re suspicious of strangers and they fully embrace the motto to shoot first and ask questions later, even if they do assume he’s a human.”

  Dammit. His heart gave an odd twist, and he lifted his hand to rub his thumb over the plush softness of her lower lip.

  Just a few hours ago she’d been pressed beneath him, her cheeks flushed with an arousal she couldn’t hide. In that moment he hadn’t cared that his daughter was in the next room, not to mention the Mave and the Tagos. Or that he’d considered this woman the enemy for years. Every fiber of his being was desperate to wrench aside the heavy comforter and run his lips over every inch of her satin skin before he was spreading her legs and entering her with one deep thrust.